


Perfect Sight

by BlueMinuet



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, MTO headcanons, Medical Procedures, Mentions of Functionalism, Mild Gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 17:26:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17207738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueMinuet/pseuds/BlueMinuet
Summary: Brainstorm replaces Perceptor's eye, and Perceptor feels more than he bargained for.





	Perfect Sight

**Author's Note:**

> In trying to reconcile Perceptor gouging his eye out in AHM, versus him having an eye in MTMTE #38, I did what any good fanfiction writer would do and choose to take the gayest path between two points. 
> 
> Takes place sometime before the Elegant Chaos arc, and probably at some point after the Overlord incident.

The first point at which Perceptor began to doubt his decision was when Brainstorm unshackled the briefcase from his wrist. Brainstorm never did that, not for happy hours or funerals. Perceptor watched as he flexed his wrist, as if the lack of burden was strange and alien to him. 

“Do you always do that?” Perceptor asked, before thinking better of it. 

Luckily, Brainstorm didn’t seem offended, if only a bit caught off guard. “No… well… not generally while the patient is awake, no.” 

Perceptor frowned. “How many times have you said you’ve done this before?” 

While not an expert in reading emotions, Perceptor did not miss the subtle deflation in Brainstorm’s frame, and the slight twitching of his wings. “Having second thoughts?” 

“No,” Perceptor said, though he wasn’t quite sure if it was a lie. “I was just curious.”

Brainstorm rearranged the replacement parts on the tray, lining up his tools alongside them, feigning a need to optimize efficiency when they both knew that he’d spent no less than fifteen minutes on the previous layout to begin with. “Above board, a handful of times… Below board… several more handfuls than that.” 

Perceptor still remembered how sheepishly Brainstorm had come to him with his original proposal. It wasn’t really any surprise that Brainstorm built more than weapons — there was much to be said for diversification even before the war ended — and though Perceptor might not have pegged him for doing body mods, it made sense when he thought about it. Many MTOs felt at least some level of dissatisfaction with their premade bodies, and it was an unspoken fact that many of them looked outside of the chain of command to find ways to fix that. Brainstorm made perfect sense, being an MTO himself, and having been positioned with a wealth of materials at his disposal on Kimia. 

“You’re sure about staying awake for the process?” Brainstorm asked. 

“You can dull the relevant pain receptors, correct?” 

Brainstorm nodded, grabbing a spanner to do just that. With a nod of consent from Perceptor, he pried open his medical access panel and got to work. 

“When did you decide to go ‘above board’ as you put it?” Perceptor asked, despite the awkward feeling of Brainstorm pressing around different sensor clusters to isolate the right ones. 

“How long have we been on the Light Light?” Brainstorm said in return, his voice slightly muffled. Perceptor got the sense that he might be sticking his glossa between his dentae in his concentration. “Ratchet partially knew, and it was only a matter of time before he told Magnus. So, I got ahead of the story and got Ratchet to certify me. Class B modification technician; non-essential organs only. Anything vital has to be performed under the supervision of a medical professional.” 

Perceptor felt slightly awkward as Brainstorm pulled out and clicked his panel shut. He wished he could blame that on half of his face slowly going numb, but he knew that wasn’t it. “I wasn’t doubting you, you know.” 

“I know,” Brainstorm said. “After all, anyone who does self-mods has to live and let live.” 

Perceptor would have winced his his face was responding properly. 

Brainstorm leaned against the lab berth, oddly hesitant. “This is going to be a bit up close and personal, since my workspace isn’t exactly set up for this yet. Sure you’re okay?” 

The moment Perceptor nodded, Brainstorm scooched a leg onto the space between the berth’s edge and Perceptor’s torso, his leg winglet lightly brushing Perceptor’s side. Brainstorm pulled the instrument table closer, and after retrieving the correct tool, pried off the first layer of Perceptor’s eye scope. 

“Primus, Percy,” he muttered, and Perceptor was surprised that he could feel his thumb tracing the groove of an old scorch mark just under where his eye should be. 

“Should I be concerned that I’m feeling sensations?” Perceptor asked, trying to ignore the look on the sliver of Brainstorm’s face that he could see. Once again, his emotional recognition was failing him. 

“Can’t block them out completely,” Brainstorm said, “If I do, I won’t be able to test if the connections are firing correctly until it’s too late.” He gently guided Percy to move his head to give him a better angle. Perceptor tried not to focus on the sensation of Brainstorm’s ridged fingerpads wisping over his face. “Let me know if it bothers you,” Brainstorm continued. 

Perceptor was quite sure that ‘bothers’ was entirely the wrong descriptor. 

On many occasions, almost everyone on the Lost Light had heard Whirl loudly proclaim Brainstorm to be “a friggin’ artist” for his weapons’ designs, but now Perceptor found himself wholeheartedly agreeing. Brainstorm’s fingers may have lacked the sheer speed and dexterity of a forged medic, but whatever he may have lacked he made up for in measured, methodical movements, each one like a loving caress with pinpoint precision. Before Perceptor quite knew what was happening, he was treated to the odd feeling of his targeting array being lifted out of his eye socket. 

“I have to admit, it’s a real great piece of work,” Brainstorm said, surprising Perceptor. He was still holding the targeting array in his hand, swiping away a few droplets of fluid lubricant that had previously let it swivel freely in his socket as an optic would. Perceptor thought the look in Brainstorm’s eyes might be awed, though something else seemed to be drawing his brow together at odd angles. 

“Well, if the specs from the removable scope that you pitched me are to be believed, it will be its equal or better in a fraction of the size,” Perceptor said. His one optic was searching Brainstorm’s posture for any kind of clue on what he was thinking, but he wasn’t sure if even two optics would have been any help. 

Brainstorm finally set the array aside, and swiped another tool from the table on Perceptor’s blind side, sweeping something along the back of his eye socket. 

“If you don’t mind,” Perceptor said slowly. “Would you mind telling me what you’re doing now? Just to sate my own curiosity.” 

Brainstorm pulled the tool out, and Perceptor could see that it appeared to be a small paintbrush. Brainstorm ran his fingers over the tip of the brush, knocking what looked like metal shavings from it. 

“Your targeting array didn’t set as smoothly in the socket as a traditional optic would,” Brainstorm explained. “Close enough to be efficient, but it left micro-scratches along the inside. I have to clean it out and then recoat the whole socket before I can put a traditional optic back in, or else it’ll catch and you’ll just be back on my slab in a year for another replacement.”

Perceptor decided there were worse things. 

Brainstorm had little respect for the proper way to do things, and so Perceptor was led to wonder if this procedure really required Brainstorm to swipe his fingers gingerly across the circumference of his socket as he did. No matter the answer, Perceptor was not in the mood to interrupt him. “Why did you decide to propose these mods?” he asked instead. 

Brainstorm’s fingers paused their ministrations as he moved his head to that Perceptor could see him. “You only had one eye, Percy.” 

“Yes, but I don’t need two eyes,” Perceptor said. “Not exactly… I mean, there are certain scientific functions that could be improved if I had removed the targeting array, but you could have just offered me a normal optic for that.” 

“Then you would have said ‘no’.” Brainstorm shrugged and returned to his work. “I thought it would be nice of you to have the best of both worlds.” 

Perceptor went to squint, only for Brainstorm to fuss as soon as the metal mesh around the empty socket contracted. He stopped, but still did his best to give Brainstorm a look. “Both worlds?” 

Brainstorm wasn’t looking at him anymore, but the way his wings heaved made Perceptor imagine he was shrugging again. “It’s not like you became a sniper because someone assigned you to. You wanted to, and you were good at it. So why chose that or your assigned function. Why not choose both?” 

Perceptor was still searching for something to say to that when he felt a slightly unpleasant tug at the back of his eye socket. 

“Sorry, this is going to be the worst part,” Brainstorm said. Before Perceptor could ask, he saw a sliver of wires in the periphery of his single eye, and linked that to the feeling of something like spider web ghosting over the top of his cheek. 

He quickly looked away. 

“Most of my body mods boil down to that,” Brainstorm said, over the soft sound of solder melting on an iron. “To letting people do what they want, not what they’re supposed to do. Or even just looking the way they want… I mean, what function do I really have for mouth, but I wanted one.” 

“Mouth?” Perceptor considered that a moment, not in the least because it was an altogether more pleasant thing to consider than wires being delicately fed back into his skull. “Wait, you modded yourself?” 

He felt Brainstorm’s fingers splaying across his forehead and cheek as Brainstorm began to chuckle. “Like I said, people who self-mod have no room to judge.” 

Perceptor almost jumped as the optic popped into his skull, and his vision fizzled slightly. 

“There, hard part over,” Brainstorm said. “Almost done. Unless you want me to patch up the scorch mark,” he said, running his finger on the mesh just below the eye. “It’ll be visible now.” 

“I’m still not getting any input from the new optic,” Perceptor said. “And my other one went a bit fuzzy when you popped it in.” 

“Give it a minute. Your brain is still trying to make sense of the new impulses. It’s been a while.” 

Perceptor frowned. “Did you use yourself as a guinea pig for your first modding attempts?” 

Brainstorm laughed again, and Perceptor wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard some sort of metallic click in the middle of it. “Never miss a chance to give me a lecture about lab safety procedures, huh Percy?” 

“No…” Perceptor said slowly. “You’re right… People who self-mod have no room to judge…” 

The first thing Perceptor saw when his vision came back was Brainstorm smiling, his mask set aside. 

“I…” Perceptor grasped at his brain for something to say. “Actually, I think I will let you fix up that scorch mark… If you don’t mind.” 

Brainstorm shrugged, his smirk never wavering. “I’ve got all day for you, Percy.”


End file.
